17th Arrondissement

Today & History

It’s initially hard to know what to write about the 17th arrondissement. From a tourist’s perspective, it has almost no obvious striking features, yet it has a charm of its own and like many things in central Paris, when you peel away the layers of the onion, an intriguing more detailed picture emerges, as we shall see. But, as with the others, this blog starts with the town hall. It is unique amongst the 20 arrondissements as it is the only modern building amongst them. The previous Mairie was demolished because its strange, overly tall bell tower, nicknamed the ‘Savoyard sponge finger’ became unsafe. It was originally the brainchild of architect Paul-Eugène Lequeux in 1847. It’s not that easy to find out much more about him on the internet, not having achieved a great deal, it seems, only that his teacher’s brother appears to have given him a job as a Paris city architect; nepotism rules OK, perhaps? Eventually, after a lot of prevarication and politicking in the 1960s, the decision was taken to replace the old town hall and the money was found to commission architects Favre and Burc to start afresh. So, the modern building dates from 1971 and is not very pretty! It sets the scene for the rest of this comparatively awkward arrondissement. No vineyards here, I’m afraid. But, it all comes good in the end.

Not far from the new Mairie, there is a small park, called square des Batignolles. Its running water features and small lake were designed by Jean-Charles Adolphe Alphand, the same chap who put together a much grander project in Parc des Buttes Chaumont in the 19th that I wrote about in an earlier blog. The park is small, but secluded and altogether quieter than its big brother and although there are the largest railway maintenance sidings in Paris just a short distance away, the peace and tranquillity of this little hideaway transcends all. But, it wasn’t always thus, because before Napoleon III and his pal Bob-the-Builder, Hausmann came along with their inevitable grand schemes, this was a square where in the last 2 weeks of August each year there was a noisy, grand feast with acrobats, strolling players, local crafts and fairground stalls. It must have been quite a shindig.

Geographically, the 17th arrondissement is a strange shape - it’s long and thin and across its breadth. So, just beyond the park in a few minutes walk, you will soon stumble across the traffic roar of the Periphérique. In most other arrondissements, you completely forget that you are totally surrounded by one of the busiest urban dual carriageways in Europe. But in the 17th, there it is, very apparent, and on my recent day trip, the traffic was at a near standstill, even worse than downtown Dallas in the rush hour!

After a quick look at the covered Brochant market in a concrete blockhouse at 96 rue Lemercier, the quiet café for lunch - L’Insolent at the junction of avenue de Clichy and rue Pouchet can prove for you that the 17th has redeeming features as this is easily as the best Croque Madame in Paris - very generous helpings, strong tasting melted and browned cheese and a perfectly cooked runny fried egg, carefully perched on the top. Yum! Try it.

A walk towards the South West away from the railway sidings provides further greenery and interest - the boulevard Pereire is a busy dual carriageway, but in its centre high hedges enclose a relative little haven of gardens and tennis courts.

Eventually, a stroll down avenue Niel and rue Pierre Demours leads one to - place Tristan Bernard. Tristan was a well-regarded, talented playwright in his day. But, like so many very successful Parisian jews, he was quickly rounded up by the Nazis in WWII and interned in the Drancy transportation camp where he wasted away for several months. Miraculously he was released in 1943 after a well-connected friend appears to have intervened on his behalf. But as was often the case, he never properly recovered and died 4 years later. The particular and personal interest in this story for me is that his granddaughter, Martine, hired my partner Julia as a teenager in the late 1960s to look after her baby. The baby is now 40 years old and has children of her own. But Julia and are both firm friends of several generations of the family, despite the passing of time. For more information on Tristan Bernard and his successful offspring, visit the wikipedia site at:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tristan_Bernard

There is a statue of him on the square, but he needs a bit of a clean! See the photo.

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Part of trip: Living in Paris

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